Fairytale
by Jounah
Summary: Hitsugaya Toushirou whose childhood insecurities have developed into a solid distrust of others. Hinamori Momo who vowed to never let her heart be easily swayed. When marrying her means obtaining the best doctors for his grandmother, Toushirou can't refuse. Getting her to fall in love with him might be the hardest challenge he has ever faced, but he isn't a genius for nothing.
1. Irreplaceable Encounter

**A/N: Hello! Welcome to the first chapter of my new Hitsugaya and Hinamori fan fic. I was recently running this idea through in my head as I was coming up with a way to rewrite Four Seasons, but I figured this was different enough from that one to have its own story.**

**So I really hope you enjoy the chapter and take a little time to review at the end to tell me what you think. Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. It belongs to Tite Kubo.**

* * *

_**The visitor he encountered outside the door to his home, however, was the last person he wanted to see that day. His lips immediately set themselves in a scowl as he interrogated brashly, "What the hell are you doing here?"**_

* * *

In room 3-A of Karakura High School, a white-haired, turquoise-eyed seventeen year old sat at his desk by the window, reading. The one hand that wasn't holding the book was placed across his stomach. One leg was pulled up against his body. Any passerby would think he was focused intently on his book, but his closest friend knew better.

"Morning, Toushirou," Ichigo greeted, setting his school bag on his desk.

"Morning," Toushirou murmured in reply, setting down the book. He gave a small sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

"What's wrong?" Ichigo asked, knowing Toushirou must be pretty agitated. He had first picked up on it from the way Toushirou had placed his body, but then he'd grown more concerned when Toushirou had sighed and then run a hand through his hair. Toushirou was not one to waste his breath in a sigh nor did he like to ruin his hair (which seemed to look the same to Ichigo both before and after, but Toushirou always thought different).

"Nothing," Toushirou answered offhandedly, shoving his book in his bag.

Ichigo opened his mouth to say something, but another voice broke in, "He hates it when you say that." Seemingly out of nowhere, a small, dark-haired female appeared, settling herself on Ichigo's desk, her elbow pushing down on Ichigo's head.

"Would you mind getting off me?" Ichigo growled, pushing away her arm. "Geez, midget," the girl bristled at the nickname, "the day's barely started and you're already acting like a pain."

"I was just helping," she countered lightly, jumping off his desk and making sure she slammed her foot onto his. Ichigo grimaced in pain and scowled but said nothing else.

"I always find it hard to believe you two are going out," commented a red-headed man, settling in the desk behind Ichigo.

Before either Ichigo or Rukia could respond to him, another person spoke up cheerfully, "Their fighting just shows how much they love each other. Good morning, Kurosaki-kun, Kuchiki-san, Abarai-san, Hitsugaya-san," the girl greeted each in turn with a nod, a bright smile on her face as she her bag down on the desk in front of Toushirou's.

"Good morning, Inoue-san," Rukia replied with her own smile while the boys mumbled their own "good morning"s.

As it got closer to the start of first period, more students began to trickle in.

Toushirou spent the rest of the time staring out the window, ignoring Ichigo who would glance at him with penetrating, questioning eyes. Toushirou further worked to avoid Ichigo even during the brief breaks between their classes by leaving the room or entering into a conversation with Renji or Rangiku who sat behind him. Lunch would have been tricky except Ichigo was rallied into helping Rukia and Renji with their kendo practice, much to Toushirou's relief.

Now it was the end of school and Toushirou really didn't want to go to soccer practice. One part of him wanted to wander around aimlessly while the other half wanted to run home to check on his grandmother.

Toushirou gathered his things together slowly, pondering his choices. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to go to practice. If he couldn't concentrate, he would be more trouble than an asset. This final thought reassured him as he passed the team's locker room.

He probably should've told Ichigo, but he was going to pass the field anyway, and Ichigo would most likely be out there already, starting to warm up. And when Toushirou began to pass the field, his assumption was correct. Ichigo was already dressed in his athletic clothes, dribbling a soccer ball before he switched to hitting it from one foot to the other.

"Oi, Toushirou, where are you going?" Ichigo called, noticing his white-haired friend walking away, still dressed in his uniform. The rest of the soccer team jogged onto the field, a few of them pulling along a bag of soccer balls and orange cones.

"Somewhere else," Toushirou answered without glancing back. He continued walking, even when he heard heavy footsteps running after him. He was forced to stop when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Hey, just because you're captain doesn't mean you can skip practice whenever you want. It sends a bad message to the rest of the team."

"Then call off practice," Toushirou replied, shrugging off his hand and continuing to walk away.

"Hey, Toushirou." This time, Ichigo grabbed his upper arm and moved in front of him so they were face to face. "Tell me what's been bugging you all day. Maybe I can help." His eyes searched Toushirou's face, looking for any indication of an answer. Toushirou simply stared back at him. Finally it seemed Ichigo had found his answer because his eyes widened slightly. "Does it have to do with your grandmother?"

The small clench in Toushirou's jaw indicated exactly that.

"What is it? Is she okay?" Ichigo questioned, his hand dropping, worry clouding his eyes. He had only known Toushirou's grandmother for a year and met her a grand total of three times but she had always been very welcoming when Ichigo had dropped by. She was a frail but kindly old lady that had sent Ichigo home each time with a delicious meal and snacks.

Besides that, Ichigo was one of their few friends that really understood how much she meant to Toushirou. Unlike Rangiku and Renji, however, Ichigo had been the only one informed by Toushirou of her health which had slowly begun to deteriorate within the past few months.

"Sorry, stupid question," Ichigo muttered. "Of course she can't be okay since you've been acting the way you have all day."

"Don't," Toushirou hissed darkly, his eyes flashing, "look at me like that." He brushed past Ichigo, leaving behind an icy chill in the air.

"Kurosaki-fukutaicho?" Someone asked hesitantly, cautiously approaching Ichigo. "Is Hitsugaya-taichou…?"

"No," Ichigo shook his head. "We'll be practicing without him today. He has business to attend to." He said nothing else as he began jogging back to the field where most of the team had already started warming up.

* * *

In a large, prominent mansion in a richer neighborhood of Karakura, a young woman stiffly sat in front of a vanity, running a brush through her dark, shoulder-length hair. Her brown eyes were dull, her pink lips almost pulled down in a frown.

"Hinamori-chan?" A soft knock sounded on her door.

"Come in," the woman called, setting her brush down and reaching for a hair clip. The door opened slowly as she pulled aside her hair and placed the clip in.

"Good morning," a blond-haired man greeted with a small smile, taking a few steps into the room.

"Good morning, Kira-kun," Momo replied, standing up and turning to face him. "Sorry if I worried you. I was just about to head down." There was hardly a change in her expression. The only sign of her distress was made evident by a small crease between her brows that was almost indiscernible even to Kira who had known her years now.

"Is something wrong?" Kira asked slowly, hoping Momo would open up to him this time.

"No," she shook her head slightly, causing his heart to deflate, "it was nothing, really. Was there something you needed?" She questioned, beginning to head out of the bedroom.

"Ah, yes," Kira answered, stepping aside to let her through. "I just learned that the date of the concert has been approved for December 20th." He paused briefly, but when Momo said nothing, he continued, "I was also wondering if you wanted to eat breakfast or if you were thinking of practicing right away. Your mother called this morning to check up on you and insisted on lots of practice, but I had to disagree with her. I know you won't be able to eat again until dinner. And I was thinking you might want to rest more since we just returned yesterday."

"No, I'm fine," said Momo softly as they began descend down the stairs. "I got enough rest yesterday. I would just like to eat a little before I look over the music."

"Good," said Kira in relief. "I will ask the cooks to prepare something. What would you like?"

"A few blueberry scones and some coffee will be fine."

Kira nodded and walked a bit faster. "Oh," he turned to face her when he reached the bottom of the stairs, "where should I bring your breakfast?"

Momo glanced out a nearby window before answering, "The gardens. It looks beautiful outside." Kira nodded and began walking away. "Kira-kun," she called suddenly, making him pause and turn back to her. "Thank you…for your concern."

Kira flashed her a small smile and replied, "Don't worry, Hinamori-chan. That's what friends do." And he continued on his way to the kitchen.

Momo walked languidly as though she didn't have a care in the world, but those who knew her understood that as being far from the truth. Momo's mind was always preoccupied even if her physical body did not show it.

When she reached the gardens, she let out a small sigh of contentment and a little light brightened her eyes. She had always loved the gardens, filled with colorful flowers, towering trees, elegant water fountains, and a stone path that led to a giant gazebo where she had always imagined herself getting married. Nowadays she scoffed at the thought and altogether avoided the gazebo. But she couldn't ignore the call of the flowers, the whispers of the water that flowed and fell, the whistling of the wind through the trees. A smile wanted to grace her lips, but she had not smiled in so long that the act in itself seemed impossible. Instead, she settled with a content sigh, closing her eyes and listening. This place always brought back memories of a happier, more carefree time. This place was where she had spent long hours immersed in her music, her grandmother settled under the shade of a tree, listening and offering loud cheers and smiles when Momo finished a piece. But now her grandmother was gone, along with any sort of happiness that came with playing the violin.

Momo walked along the stone path, her hand brushing along flowers, her fingertips dipping into water fountains until she settled down at the base of a tree. She lay back against the trunk and shut her eyes, breathing in the clean morning air. She had missed the garden terribly while she was on tour. If not for the garden, she would've gladly lived in one of their other homes on another continent. But her parents had, strangely enough, wanted her home until the concert. When Kira had told her that, her heart had dropped to her stomach and she'd almost thrown up. Her only comfort was that her parents had promised she would live in the main mansion while they took residence in a mansion closer to company headquarters.

She stared up at the sky, watching the clouds as they drifted by. It was relaxing. She hadn't felt this way in a while. Without her knowledge, her eyes began to shut of their own accord until she was, once again, asleep.

**XXX**

"Hinamori-chan!" Kira called, looking left and right as he searched for her. "Hinamori—" He paused, spotting her sleeping at the base of a tree. He approached her slowly so as not to wake her. It was also because he wanted to spend a few minutes watching the girl that had captured his heart many years ago. In sleep there was a softness to her features, a vulnerability she had never allowed herself to show since the incident. It reminded him of the old Hinamori he knew, not the shell of a person she had become.

Kira let out a small gasp and stepped back, startled, as Momo began to wake. Her eyelids fluttered open and she let out a small yawn. She rubbed her eyes tiredly but then jerked awake when she realized someone else was with her. She looked up and the tension in her shoulders slightly relaxed when she saw Kira.

"I-I just came to look for you," he stumbled over his words. "Everything's done and sitting at the table on the patio."

"Mm," she said, standing up and brushing down the back of her hair. "Thank you," she murmured as she passed him. Kira followed along silently and departed without another word when they reached the table.

**XXX**

Momo lifted her violin and adjusted it until it fit comfortably between her shoulder and chin. She raised her bow and ran it over each string, slightly turning the silver pegs until it was in tune. Once she was done with that, she ran through a few scales to warm up, her fingers and bow moving faster each time. After a half hour of running through scales, she pulled out the pieces she would be performing with Karakura Chamber Orchestra in December. She had never played any of the pieces before, which was both good and bad. She always got bored with the same music, but it meant she didn't have to practice as much on getting the notes and could instead work on technique. This time around, she would have to get down the notes in the following weeks, then afterward learn the story behind each piece to create her own image of what the composer had developed, and finally incorporate that into her playing.

She pulled out the easiest looking of the four pieces and began running through, stumbling when she reached a particularly complex passage of eighth and sixteenth notes.

Momo practiced for the next few hours without stopping, pounding her way through bits and pieces of each song, determined to nail each note perfectly. It wasn't until four o'clock that she allowed herself to stop, breathing hard, feeling a rush of relief as the last note of the piece vibrated through the room. She laid her violin and bow in her case and sat down for a few moments. Noise outside her window drew her to it. She stared outside and watched as cars drove by and some high school kids walked past, laughing and joking with one another. Momo watched them disinterestedly for a few moments before turning back to her violin which awaited her expectantly.

She walked back toward it and pulled out another piece to continue working on. She glanced over the numerous pages tiredly before putting it back on her stand. Momo glanced over at the window again and made an abrupt decision, her mouth set in a small determined frown, the first discernible facial expression outside of the monotonous one she had worn for years.

* * *

Toushirou paid little attention to his surroundings as he walked. He wanted to get home to see if his grandmother was alright, yet at the same time he didn't want to see her because it would only show him once again how powerless he was. The one time she needed him and he couldn't do anything for her. Yesterday afternoon she had collapsed while Toushirou had been at Rukia's house with the rest of the gang because Rukia had wanted to try out various recipes and choose one to bake for Kurosaki Masaki's birthday which was in the upcoming week. She had first invited Orihime who had then invited someone else and one thing had led to another. Eventually Toushirou had found himself dragged to the Kuchiki household after soccer practice.

He hadn't gotten a call about her collapse until hours later as he was walking home.

Toushirou suddenly stopped and looked around. The buildings around him looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He glanced up at the store he had stopped in front of and recognized it as the only coffee shop in Karakura. He was about to walk away and head for home when he remembered that his grandmother enjoyed some of the sweets from the shop. Perhaps eating some would cheer her up a little.

He stepped in and was overwhelmed with the pleasant mixture of coffee, sweets, and books. He took a small whiff and headed to the display case to look over the baked goods they still had.

After ordering and receiving his bag of sweets, he turned and began walking. All of a sudden, something—or someone—knocked into his left side.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," a girlish voice apologized frantically. He hardly heard her, staring down at the bag of baked goods he had dropped in his surprise. The top of the bag had burst open and now all the sweets he had bought for his grandmother were lying on the floor. Toushirou glanced down at his uniform jacket and found coffee had been spilled on it and was traveling down, dripping onto the floor. Anger overtook his rational mind as his head swerved toward the sound of apologizing.

A small woman stood in front of him, her head in a low bow, apologies spewing from her mouth. She was dressed simply in a pair of white-washed skinny jeans, white flats, and a pale pink blouse. A small clip held back her black shoulder-length hair. She didn't look any older than him; it was possible she was a student, but Toushirou didn't recognize her. He supposed she could be in another class.

"Stop." The single word was icy and abruptly stopped the woman's endless flow of apologies.

"I'm really sorry," she whispered after a few seconds, her head still bowed.

"Pay attention," Toushirou bit out, ripping off his jacket. "Idiot," he muttered as he stomped out of the shop.

Momo flinched as though he'd struck her. She blinked back tears, willing them not to fall. This was why she hated being around other people. They always acted cruelly and thought only from their point of view. Against her will, she looked up, a few tears making their way down her face. Momo only caught a flash of white hair and a school bag before he disappeared. Her eyes strayed to the bag of sweets lying on the floor beside the mess that had once been her coffee. Guilt ripped at her heart.

"I'm sorry," she murmured in apology to the worker that came to clean up the mess. "I didn't mean to cause such a commotion." Momo tried as discreetly as she could to wipe away her tears, but the worker said nothing about it.

"Don't worry, miss," the worker replied with a small smile and said nothing else as she began to clean.

"Um," Momo spoke up timidly as the girl was about to throw away the bag of sweets. She was slightly reassured by the girl's action beforehand when handling the mess and hoped that her request would not cause the girl too much frustration. "Could I—could I possibly see what's in there and get an order of those? I want to try apologizing again."

"Of course," said the girl, her smile growing wider. "I can get the order for you. Just wait a minute."

"Thank you," said Momo gratefully as the girl disappeared to wash her hands before beginning to gather items together in a bag.

"Here you are," said the girl cheerfully a few minutes later, holding out the bag of sweets. "That'll be 1603 yen."

"Thank you," Momo repeated as she handed money to the girl. "And please keep the change as another apology for the incident I caused."

"Thanks," replied the girl, giving a small bow. "Have a good evening," she said as Momo headed out.

"Thank you. I hope you have a good evening as well," said Momo as the doors automatically shut behind her.

When Momo got outside, she looked toward the direction she had seen the boy head. Sudden dread filled her. How exactly was she supposed to find him? Enough time had passed that he could've already been home. She didn't know his name or anything about him. She sighed softly, closing her eyes, her head bowed down in defeat.

"Oh well," she murmured sadly, "I've never eaten most of these before. I might as well not let them go to waste. Maybe Kira-kun will enjoy them as well."

"Um, excuse me," someone said hesitantly from behind her. She swerved around and found the same girl from before fidgeting. "If you want to apologize, I can give you Hitsugaya-san's address."

"Is he one of your friends?" Momo asked, her face coloring in humiliation.

"Yes," she answered, "well, I don't talk to him very much even though I sit in front of him in class. He's close friends with a friend from school, so we have the same friends which makes us friends, at least to me it does." The girl paused. "Oh, I'm rambling. Sorry. But, um," she pulled out a pad of paper and a pen from her apron, "these are directions to his house from here as well as the address." She scribbled quickly, stopping a few times to think. "Here," she handed Momo a piece of paper after a few minutes had passed.

'Hitsugaya Toushirou,' Momo read to herself before lifting her eyes to the girl's. "Thank you," Momo said her for the third time that evening. "You've helped me a lot today."

"I'm glad to be of assistance," said the girl. "Oh," she said as Momo began to turn away, "um, I don't know if it's really my place to say anything, but…please don't think too badly of Hitsugaya-san. I know he didn't exactly show his best side earlier, but he's a very nice person." She paused and began muttering, "Then again, you are going to find him to apologize again, so perhaps you understand what I'm saying. Kurosaki-kun did seem a little out of sorts today and kept staring at Hitsugaya-san. Oh no!" She looked up at Momo who was staring at her. An embarrassed blush crossed her cheeks and she let out a small laugh. "Sorry, I tend to ramble a lot. I don't think I introduced myself yet. My name is Inoue Orihime."

"I'm Hinamori Momo," Momo replied. "Thank you again. Goodbye. With that, she gave a small bow.

"Goodbye!" Orihime called after her, giving a small wave before she headed back into the shop.

* * *

Toushirou entered the house and slipped off his shoes, stepping into a pair of slippers.

"Toushirou-kun?" His next door neighbor called, stepping out of the kitchen, drying her hands with a towel.

"Hello," he greeted, placing his shoes off to the side.

"What happened?" She asked worriedly, noting the dark stain on his shirt.

"Nothing," Toushirou answered nonchalantly. "How is she?"

"She spent most of the afternoon sleeping and just woke up. I was preparing her a meal. Would you like me to put something together for you as well?" The woman watched him concernedly, her eyebrows knit together.

"No, I'll be fine," he waved off. "Just prepare something for her. You can leave after making sure she's fine. I'm going to go clean up. Thanks for today."

"It's no problem, Toushirou-kun," said the woman as Toushirou began to walk away. "Oh, yes, Toushirou-kun," he stopped, "your friend Kurosaki Ichigo-san stopped by earlier. I told him you weren't home yet, but he had come to visit your grandmother as well. I thought you might want to know."

"Ah, thanks," he answered after a few seconds, continuing on his way to his room.

As he passed his grandmother's room, he took a quick glance in and saw her sitting up in bed, reading a book. How typical of his grandmother. Her normalcy worked to put his heart at ease, but even as he walked away to his room, his mind still refused to deny that she looked even smaller than usual, older and frailer.

When he entered his room, Toushirou dumped his book bag and uniform jacket on the floor by his desk and began unbuttoning his shirt. He grabbed his uniform jacket off the floor and headed to the bathroom across from his room. He took some time to fill a bucket with water and threw both items in. He would have to scrub them out after his shower and hope the coffee hadn't permanently stained his clothes.

Toushirou returned to his room, only to grab some clothes and a towel before heading back to the bathroom.

He stepped out fifteen minutes later, dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, towel drying his hair.

Toushirou threw the rest of his dirty clothes in a basket and set aside his towel to dry. He walked out of the room and headed toward his grandmother's bedroom. He wanted to check on her again, just to assure himself she was alright. He peeked in and saw her slowly eating the food that had been prepared for her. He let out a small sigh of relief.

"Toushirou?" His grandmother called, setting down her chopsticks. He froze, unsure of what to do. "Toushirou," she said again, her voice gentle, "I know you are out there. Come in. I want to see you."

Toushirou hesitated only one moment more before walking in, head bowed.

He shuffled back and forth uncertainly at the foot of her bed before making his way to her side and dropping to his knees, his eyes still focused intently on the floor.

"Toushirou, what is wrong?" She asked softly, reaching forward a withered hand and gently smoothing down his hair. The small action broke down Toushirou's defenses and brought back memories of times where she had done just this when, over and over, he was rejected by children who didn't want to play with a white-haired freak.

"Grandmother, I—when I saw you last night—when I heard you were in the hospital…I-I couldn't—I couldn't—"

"It is all right," she spoke softly, her arms reaching out to embrace him. She pulled him close, continuing to stroke his hair soothingly. "I am still here. I will not go anywhere, not for a while yet. Do not worry about me. I will be fine. I promise."

Though her words were meant to reassure him, they did not ease the rapid pounding of his heart nor stop his mind from reminding him that she would not live forever; the fact that she spoke those words were simple proof of that. Rather than a charm, her words seemed more like a curse. But he allowed himself to revel in that moment, to feel like everything really would be all right. His grandmother was his entire world. If he lost her, where would he be then?

After a few moments, he pulled away.

"Ichigo-kun visited me earlier," she told him.

"Mitsuko-san told me," he replied, wondering where she was leading with her statement.

"I know," she smiled knowingly. She brushed some hair out his eyes. "I am glad you have made such a wonderful friend, Toushirou. He is such a kind boy. He even bought me a book from my favorite poet." She gestured to the book beside her. "I am ashamed when I say that I did not think he would remember such a small fact since I have only met him…three times." Her eyes turned stern as she scolded lightly, "You really must bring more of your friends over, Toushirou. I would love to meet each and every one of them."

"Maybe someday," Toushirou muttered, his eyes drifting down toward the floor. "When you're feeling better."

"Yes, but I hope that day will come soon. Anyway, you should get some rest, my little Toushirou," she murmured with a tender smile before placing a kiss on his forehead. "Do not stay up too late studying."

"You too," he replied, standing up slowly. "Are you finished eating?" He asked, nodding toward her nearly empty tray.

"Yes, I am." Toushirou bent down to take the tray and headed toward the door. "Mitsuko-san mentioned that you have not eaten yet. Be sure you do."

"Yes, Grandmother," he said obediently. "Good night."

"Good night, Toushirou," she said as he quietly closed the door behind him.

After washing his grandmother's dishes, he grabbed a few snacks from the cupboard and walked back to his room. He set the snacks on his desk before heading to the bathroom, ready to tackle the stains. As he furiously scrubbed, his thoughts traveled back to the incident at coffee shop even though he had ordered himself not to. His day had already been bad, but the incident had just made worse if that were possible. What else would happen in the five hours before the day was officially over?

A few loud knocks only caused him to grunt in irritation. He threw down his shirt, wiped his hands, and made his way to the front door. Perhaps it was Mitsuko-san, but she would have called instead of coming over. But who else could it be? Ichigo? It couldn't be since Ichigo had already visited earlier. No one else from school knew his grandmother had recently been hospitalized. They didn't have any other living relatives that could possibly be visiting. So who could it be?

The person he encountered outside the door to his home, however, was the last person he wanted to see that day. His lips immediately set themselves in a scowl as he interrogated brashly, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Momo only stood before him, her shoulders hunched forward, clutching the bag of sweets close to her body, nervousness the only emotion present in her eyes. She swallowed once and cleared her throat but no words would come out. The dark turquoise blue eyes that glared down at her were questioning, accusing.

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to seek him out was Momo's last thought before she opened her mouth to speak.

* * *

_**An irreplaceable encounter is connecting to a miracle.**_

_**Memories are piling up.**_

_**The song of our beginning is echoing.**_

* * *

**A/N: The song lyric was taken from the Japanese Band Arashi's song One Love.**

**I hope you enjoyed reading this first chapter. I know the characters may seem OOC, but it will make more sense as the story goes on. I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review. Thank you!**

**Jounah**


	2. A Nightmare or a Dream

**A/N: Wow! I was blown away by the number of people that reviewed, alerted, or put my story as a favorite. It totally made my day and reminded me why I love writing so much. Ha ha. I'd like to take a little space to thank the following people: CS, BlackHeart1723, isecretlywrite, ann, xbrainlessxxwriterx, Hitsuhina fanatic, Mei-tan, bananapower, ninjia, xXxMusicNCookiesxXx, MacOnTheRun, kitkathappiness, ulquihimefohever, mangafreak11**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. It belongs to Tite Kubo.**

* * *

_**Deep in your heart, a voice whispered slyly in her mind, you don't want him to. If Kira stops caring for you, who will take his place? No one, the voice answered cruelly. You have no one else.**_

* * *

"I-I-I—" Momo began nervously, her eyes flicking up briefly. The darkening glare of the boy before her made her stop, take a small, shaky breath, and try again. "I-I just," she whispered, gulping, "wanted to-to apologize again."

Toushirou said nothing in response and made to shut the door without listening to her apologies and excuses. How could they be any different than they were before? It was pointless to listen.

But Momo continued on hurriedly, hoping he would stop. "Here," she held out the bag of baked goods, her head bowed. "I-I p-purchased a new bag of-of the sweets you bought."

"I don't want it," he spoke monotonously.

Momo's head shot up at his answer, her hands tightening their grip on the bag. "I know-I know this won't completely make up for what happened before, but…I-I was—I was hoping—"

"That you would be forgiven anyway?" Toushirou interrupted, crossing his arms loosely in front of him. Momo froze and began to pull the bag back toward her, her shoulders hunching forward, making her look smaller than she already was. "Did you really believe it would be that simple?" He scoffed softly, but with enough disdain that sent a chill up Momo's back. She could say nothing as he went on. "Well, I don't accept." With that, he deftly shut the door with a snap.

Momo cringed, pressing the bag to her chest. Why? She shut her eyes tightly. What had compelled her to seek out this boy that had shown her obvious dislike upon first meeting? Sobs began to shake her body. Why hadn't she just returned home and tried to forget about the incident? The one time she had tried to do something different, it had ended up this way. Perhaps it was better if she stayed home. Interacting with other people only ended up with her being hurt by them.

A small sob escaped her. Momo gave a small gasp and covered her mouth.

_And I will make sure to keep my distance._

_Say "I love you" when you're not listening._

Momo blinked through her tears, realizing someone was calling her. She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.

"Hello?" She greeted without looking to see who it was.

"Hinamori-chan, where are you?" Kira questioned frantically from the other end. "Where did you go? Are you hurt? Do you need me to pick you up from somewhere? Where are you?"

"I-I'm okay, Kira-kun," she answered as she tried to calm her breathing.

"Hinamori-chan, what happened?" Kira's voice was calm now, but Momo could tell that underneath he was tense, worried.

"Nothing," Momo said, "I was just…thinking. And I lost track of time. I'll be home soon."

"Are you sure you don't want me to pick you up?" Kira asked after a pause.

"No, I'll be fine. Thank you, Kira-kun. Don't wait up for me."

Kira gave another pause, debating whether or not to say the words that were running through his mind. He inhaled and took the dive. "You know I will, Hinamori-chan. I always will."

Momo's grip on the phone tightened as an overwhelming but familiar pain constricted her chest. She opened her mouth, found herself unable to say anything, and then bit her lip hesitantly before she tried to speak again. "Kira-kun—"

"Good night, Hinamori-chan," Kira interceded before she could continue. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Good night, Kira-kun," Momo whispered to a beeping dial tone.

She placed her phone back in her purse and turned to leave. She took a few steps and paused uncertainly.

After a few moments, having made a decision, Momo spun back toward the house and cautiously treaded to the front porch. She lay the bag of sweets down by the front door and quickly retreated. She took a few more steps backwards before swerving around and running down the pathway to the road. She slowed down only when she could see a faint light from the house.

As she made her way back to the mansion, she gazed at the stars, her eyes tracing them, searching for the Big Dipper and any other constellations that may be familiar to her. She had tried, when she was little, to familiarize herself with their various shapes and names, but it had ended in failure like many other things until now in her life.

Within time, she reached the mansion. She stepped in, put away her shoes, and made her way to her bedroom, turning off the lights that Kira had left on for her. Before taking the turn down to her wing of the mansion, she glanced down the opposite wing and saw a light go off. Momo hesitated a moment but then withdrew to her room. Even if she were to confront Kira, what would she say to him? That it was useless to wait for her? To pay attention to her? That loving her would only end up in more heartache that she had already inflicted on him?

She noiselessly shut the bedroom door and stopped, her hand still on the doorknob. But…Her eyes lifted to look at herself in the mirror that hung on the back of her door. What did he see in her? What was he waiting for? Empty brown eyes stared back at her accusingly, answering her. The old Hinamori Momo, the girl she used to be before Aizen Sosuke came into her life; that was the answer she received.

"I don't think she can come back," Momo murmured, raising her fingers. She pressed them against the mirror and dragged them across, leaving a streak behind. Momo had told Kira as much many times before. It was useless to love someone like her. Kira deserved better. It was not that she didn't appreciate his kindness. Momo simply thought it was misguided. There was someone else out in the world that was waiting for Kira's love but wouldn't receive it until Kira let her go.

_Deep in your heart, _a voice whispered slyly in her mind, _you don't want him to. If Kira stops caring for you, who will take his place? No one,_ the voice answered cruelly. _You have no one else._

"That's not true," Momo whispered, pulling her hand away from the mirror. "That's not true."

The voice laughed mockingly. _Do you think your mother will come to your aid? Your father?_

"Gin-niisama," Momo answered with uneasy conviction.

_Ah, yes, your __loving__ older brother. He loves you as he loves himself, meaning not at all._

"No," Momo moaned, falling to her knees, her eyes squeezing shut, her fingers clutching at her head. "Nii-sama has always been kind to me. Like Grandmother, he believes and supports me. He isn't like Mother and Father. You're wrong about him. You're wrong."

_Your existence is meaningless, Hinamori Momo. You have no friends, no lover, no purpose. You are a waste of a life._

Momo jerked awake, tears streaming down her face in rivulets. She brought her legs up to her chest, curling into herself. She pressed her face against the pillow to stifle the sobs that continued to wrack her body.

She didn't know how long she cried, but the tears continued until she could produce no more. Even after that, she continued to hiccup and dry sobs escaped her. She couldn't recall how she had gotten to bed, when she had fallen asleep, or even when her thoughts had turned into a nightmare. But that barely occupied her mind as the words that had been whispered to her persistently began to repeat themselves.

"Stop," she whispered, clenching her blanket in a fist. "Please stop," she whimpered.

_Gin-niisama, _she thought. _I need to call Gin-niisama._

With as much effort as her weak body would afford her, Momo raised herself to a sitting position. She searched for her purse and found it lying on the floor beside her desk. With lethargic movements, she made her way to the desk. She fell down beside it and shuffled through, desperately searching for her phone. After what seemed like forever, Momo finally retrieved it. She pressed the number one and then the call button. She held the phone against her ear and waited to her the sound of her brother's voice.

"Hello," he spoke, causing her breath to hitch.

"Nii-sama," she began, but a cold realization hit her when the message continued, "This is Dr. Ichimaru Gin. Leave a message and I will return your call when I am available."

Momo debated while the machine began to speak. Should she bother her brother? Would he return her call if she left a message? If he didn't, it would confirm what the voice from her nightmare had told her. Did she want to risk that? She had to make a snap decision when she heard a beep on the other end.

She hesitated a few moments but then ventured in quickly, her voice raspy and shaky from lack of use and her incessant crying. "Nii-sama, I-I—" She paused, not sure what to say. "I—" She tried again. She bit her lip and finally said, "It's nothing, nii-sama. I just…wanted to…see how you're doing. Have a—" There was a beep on the other end. "—good day," she ended as the dial tone began, indicating her message had been cut off.

Momo set down her phone and lifted her face, staring listlessly at the ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark stars returned her look with a contemptuous one of their own. She lifted a hand as though by doing so she could capture them and return to a time when life seemed much simpler and sweeter. She remembered the night she had decided to put up the stars. Her grandmother had bought them for her, and even though her mother would have disapproved, Momo had decided to put them up anyway. She'd been able to create the Big Dipper, but some of the other constellations had proved a bit more difficult. She'd sat for a good amount of time on her bed, twisting and turning the book to try and depict Ursa Major from the scatter of stars. Only when she had been about to give up had her brother waltzed in, grabbed the book from her hands, and wordlessly begun working until he had created all the constellations Momo had earlier chosen to display on her ceiling.

This was how Gin had always acted, stepping in when Momo was ready to give up, wordlessly offering his assistance and doing it with such grace and ease that made Momo resent him at first. To her, and everyone else around them, Gin was perfect. He was intelligent, having graduated high school when he was twelve, college when he was fifteen, and then medical school when he was eighteen. He was talented—he could play any instrument as fluidly as though he'd played for years simply after watching someone else and practicing for ten minutes; he excelled at every sport. He was well spoken yet maintained a distance from others. Despite this, Gin drew people to him with his intelligence and talent.

What many people did not see, however, was the Gin that ridiculed those who sought his approval, those he believed to be inferior to himself, and those who praised him to his face but spoke ill of him when they believed he was not listening. It was this side of Gin that bonded these two stronger than any other brother and sister. Momo was the only one Gin had allowed himself to relay such dark thoughts to. For her, it was a lesson.

"_Don't become someone like me,"_ he told her. _"In the society we live in, one must be two-faced. It is eat or be eaten. But you don't need this to survive. __You__ will make it by being yourself."_ Sometimes Momo wondered if that had been a dream, for Gin had only said that to her once and never again. And after Gin had left the house for college, he'd returned a different person. He became colder, more distant, never sharing anything with her; he wasn't the brother she understood. Yet she held on to the memories of their younger selves, hoping they were memories and not mere figments of her imagination. But every day that passed seemed to delve away from that hope.

Momo's eyes dropped to the phone which read 4:58 a.m. She hardly felt like sleeping again. Perhaps…she could play her violin. The room was soundproof after all, so it shouldn't bother Kira who was probably still resting.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself up to a standing position. She stumbled a little, feeling dizzy, and grabbed on to the edge of the desk for support. Momo allowed a few minutes to steady herself before she made for the door.

The journey to her practice room seemed endless and more strenuous than usual. But she eventually made it there, her head spinning, her breathing labored.

Momo shut the door behind her and leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. She pressed her face against her knees and willed her breathing to slow down. Why did she feel so terrible? She reached a hand up to her forehead and found it to be slightly warmer than usual. Perhaps her unfavorable condition had been due to the episode she'd just had.

She glanced up briefly. Her violin seemed so far away. She almost didn't want to risk it, but she knew playing her violin was the best option. As much as it had caused her heartache, it had also become her form of medicine.

_Come on, Momo,_ she thought to herself, struggling to stand. _This is normal. Just…pretend Mother is on the other side, pushing you to practice. If you don't…she'll get angry. She'll take away your books. You'll have to practice more anyway._

These thoughts pushed her to make her way across the room to where her violin lay serenely in its case. She popped it open and stared down at the violin which gleamed temptingly. Her fingers reached down and brushed across the strings. The reverberating sound soothed her. She curled one hand around the neck and lifted the violin out. She pressed it against her body. Its presence was comforting like that of an old friend.

She removed her bow and stood. Momo brought the violin to rest comfortably between her shoulder and chin. She lifted her bow and set it against the strings. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply and let it out slowly as she began with a simple C major scale.

The beautiful sounds from the violin worked to soothe her troubled mind. It gave her something to focus on—her fingers running up and down the neck of the violin as she switched from one position to another, her bow moving fluidly over the four strings. This was where she belonged, here with her music.

* * *

"What the hell do you mean?" Toushirou whispered, his body beginning to shake with anger.

"Toushirou…" His grandmother began warningly.

He seemed to disregard her as he continued, "Why didn't anyone notice this before? She was just in the hospital! Why are we paying so much when you can't even notice something as important as this?"

"I'm really sorry, Hitsugaya-san," the nurse apologized with a bow. "We truly did not see this when your grandmother was last here. I am really very sorry."

"Tch," Toushirou scoffed, his arms crossed, turning his head to the side. The anger that previously occupied his face had disappeared and manifested itself in his foot which was tapping impatiently. He stopped and took a deep breath. This was no time to act like a child. Grandmother needed him now. Toushirou's face became an emotionless mask as he lowered his arms and turned to face the nurse who watched him cautiously. Her eyes flickered away briefly when they met Toushirou's. "Is there anything that can be done?"

The nurse opened her mouth, but then hesitated, biting her lip.

"Is there anything that can be done?" Toushirou questioned again, his voice biting. One thing he hated more than repeating himself was people not answering him.

The nurse winced. "W-w-well, there is—there is one doctor that might be able to help."

"Where are they? Can you get them here now?" Toushirou demanded, the feeling of dread beginning to lift from his heart.

"Um, I can check," replied the nurse. "Please excuse me one moment." She gave a small bow and left, quietly shutting the door behind her.

"Toushirou, come sit," said his grandmother in her calm, soothing voice, patting the chair beside her. Toushirou made his way over and slumped down in the chair. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against his palms.

"You should not give her such a hard time. She is not to blame." His grandmother paused and murmured, "But _I_ am sorry, my little Toushirou."

Toushirou's head shot up in surprise. He turned to her and asked, "What are you apologizing for? It's not like you asked for this."

His grandmother smiled, and though it was gentle, Toushirou could see that she was also pained. "I am causing you unnecessary worry and distress. You should be concerned with school and your friends and finding a girl—normal things that children your age are occupied with now."

"You're more important than those things, Grandmother," said Toushirou seriously. "School is easy, Ichigo understands, and…most girls are still annoying so I don't care much about that. And it's not like any of them are interested in me anyway," he muttered the last part.

This comment made Toushirou's grandmother smile.

_Oh, my little Toushirou,_ she thought, _you can be so oblivious. _She had seen the way women had looked at him as they traveled to the hospital. Many of them had outright stared which always made Toushirou uncomfortable. _Toushirou, you have nothing to be insecure about._ She reassuringly patted his hand with one of hers. _People, even if most of them are women, are learning to see the handsome young man I always knew you to be._

When Toushirou was younger, he had been much smaller in stature. But when he'd reached puberty, he'd grown to his current 5'9". When he entered middle school, he'd taken to kendo which had given his lithe form some muscle. The effortless bone structure he'd inherited from his mother and the broad-shouldered, small-waisted form of his father became more evident and contributed to his beauty. His physical changes had been enough to distract women from the snowy white hair and blue-green eyes that had once been strange and offensive to them.

This was a good start, but she dearly hoped there would be someone willing to put up with his personality which was hard for many to accept and understand. He was not outgoing and social. It took time for him to get close to people, and it was time that many people were not willing to take nowadays. It also did not help that Toushirou was not very receiving of others or actively sought them out. Yet she understood his reasons for this and also knew there still existed the sweet, caring boy that hid behind the cold and detached personality he had created to protect himself; she prayed every night for someone to meet the Toushirou she knew and love him like he deserved.

"Is there something wrong, Grandmother?" Toushirou asked worriedly.

"No, I am fine," she answered. "I just…" She gently brushed hair from out of his eyes. "I know there is a girl out there that will understand how sweet you really are and love you. I hope you will find her soon."

"Grandmother," Toushirou muttered, a light blush coloring his cheeks, "don't talk about such nonsense." She was only allowed a small laugh before someone knocked on the door. The nurse came in a moment later, seeming more distraught than when she had left.

"Um…well…Hitsugaya-san, I-I was able to make contact with one of Dr. Ichimaru's assistants. He is scheduled to be in surgery all day, so he won't be able to talk to you until tomorrow morning. I hope this is acceptable."

"Yes, that will be fine," Toushirou answered shortly.

"As for Hitsugaya-san, it has been advised that she remain here in the hospital so we can figure out as much as possible before Dr. Ichimaru is able to see her tomorrow. Perhaps it can also help us determine where the tumor originated and why it was not noticed before. We will also do what we can to stall or stop its growth."

"Mm," said Toushirou, turning to his grandmother. "I will call Mitsuko-san to pack some things for you. I have to go back to school for my afternoon classes and I have soccer, but I'll visit after practice. Will you be alright until then?"

"Of course," his grandmother replied. "Do not worry about me."

"If you could follow me, Hitsugaya-san," said the nurse, indicating in a direction with her hands.

"Yes." She turned to Toushirou. The nurse left the room to wait for her. "I will see you later then, Toushirou." He bent down and she placed a light kiss on his cheek. "Have fun at soccer practice. Say hello to Ichigo-kun and the rest of the team for me?"

"I'll…try," Toushirou replied, helping to lead her out.

"I would not expect anything less," she said with a chuckle.

"I'll be back soon, Grandmother," said Toushirou as they made to part ways.

"I know. But please make sure to enjoy yourself as well." With one last smile, she turned and followed after the nurse, leaving Toushirou with a sense of dread but more so loneliness.

* * *

Momo paused in her playing. She looked out the window and could see the sun beginning to set. She blinked in amazement. It had seemed like she had only practiced for a few moments, but she had been at it for almost twelve hours.

Her stomach growled loudly in protest. She blushed lightly although no one else was around. Perhaps it was time to eat something.

She set down the violin and bow, making sure they were secure before she left the practice room.

Momo paused at the top of the staircase. She could have sworn she heard voices. It could be Kira talking with one of the cooks. That was reasonable. Feeling reassured, she continued down the stairs and entered the hallway that led to the kitchen.

"She's been practicing all day?"

Momo froze, recognizing the voice. She watched as her mother appeared from a doorway. Her long hair was pulled into its usual chignon; she was impeccably dressed in a black pencil skirt, white blouse, and matching black jacket. Her dark brown eyes were turned, focused on whoever it was she was talking to.

Momo let out a small gasp and involuntarily took a step back when her mother turned and they now stood face to face. They were almost mirror images of one another. At one point in her life, Momo would have blushed and been proud to be told she looked like her mother. She had always thought her mother was beautiful, and still thought the same now, but she didn't want to be like her mother in any way.

"Momo, what are you wearing?" Her mother questioned, scrunching up her nose in disgust. "You look like you just rolled out of bed…after you slept in those clothes. I heard you were practicing, but that is no excuse for such an…offensive appearance."

"I'm sorry, Mother," Momo murmured, giving a low bow. "I will make sure to be more aware of my appearance."

"Yes, yes," she waved off nonchalantly. "Your father and I were hoping you and Gin could join us for dinner. I could understand if you would rather not," she made a point of running her eyes over Momo from head to toe. "Perhaps…" she said after a moment, "we should save it for tomorrow. I will have someone inform Kira of this. We will be going to Azul for dinner, so be sure to dress properly." She coolly strolled past Momo without another word.

"Goodbye…Mother," Momo whispered after her, head bowed. She took a step toward the kitchen when she heard her mother call.

"Momo."

She turned around swiftly. Her mother stood at the end of the hallway, her body half-turned toward Momo. "Yes?"

"Yes…?"

"Yes, Mother?" Momo corrected herself.

"Tomorrow we will be discussing something important. I suggest you prepare yourself. It may be rather…surprising." She gave a—what she assumed—reassuring smile that only worked to spark Momo's curiosity and at the same time frazzle her nerves.

"Yes, Mother," said Momo, giving another low bow. "Have a good evening, Mother." She did not lift her head until she heard the front door shut. She let out a deep, shuddering breath. She did not like being surprised in such a way. Yet it must have been fairly important if it had warranted an unexpected visit from her mother.

"Hinamori-chan?" She heard Kira call from the kitchen. "The chef made curry for dinner tonight." He appeared from around the corner. "I hope that's fine. I already put some on the table for you." His statement was met with silence. "Hinamori-chan?"

"What?" Momo glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, yes, thank you, Kira-kun." She turned and headed for the kitchen, brushing past Kira who stared after her sadly.

He wanted to run after her, to grab her hand, to hold her. He wanted to shake her, to tell her to snap out of it. Aizen wasn't worth the suffering she had—and still was—experiencing. Kira wanted to help her. He had tried before, but it always ended in her saying, "It's nothing, Kira-kun." But it was always something. She just never wanted to share. Even though his heart died a little every time she said that to him, he didn't know what to do. And pushing her for answers only forced her to shut down. He didn't want to lose her, but he didn't know how to make her forget Aizen. These were thoughts that haunted him every night he went to bed and every morning when he woke.

But this was not Momo's fault. If anything, it was his…for falling in love with her and not protecting her before she had been hurt.

* * *

Toushirou sat at his grandmother's side, right ankle placed across his left knee. He twirled a pen in his right hand while his left shuffled through a stack of papers in his lap. He gave a heavy sigh as he mentally calculated how much the hospital fees were.

"219,000 yen," Toushirou muttered under his breath. _Let's see…I only make 8500 yen a week. So…I'd pay it off in about half a year. Shit._ He ran a hand through his hair. _How am I going to pay for this? And then there's the cost for her long-term stay until they've determined she's good enough to go home. Plus there will probably be fees for the treatment._

Toushirou stopped twirling the pen and used his hand to support his chin. _I wonder if they'll let me work more hours on the weekends. Or…I might have to quit the team…but after our game tomorrow. I don't want to throw something like that at the team just yet. But they should be fine even without me. Ichigo's a good leader and our reserves are almost as strong as our regulars, so there should be no problem choosing a replacement. Without soccer, that'll give me more time to work, but I'll have to talk to my supervisor for approval. I'm a good worker and get assignments done quickly, so that shouldn't be too much of a problem either. Maybe I should get another job. School work is always rather easy, so having another job won't affect it too much. It probably wouldn't pay as much as the job I have now, but it would still add to how much I currently make._

_Still, no matter how many jobs I take on, it's going to take some time to pay off the hospital bills. Perhaps I'll be able to do it in small payments over a period of time. But I have to save some money too. I have half a year left of school…what if—no._ His eyes drifted toward his grandmother. He had promised her he would finish high school no matter what. If nothing else, he had to keep that promise to her.

_And one of the company heads wants to speak me tomorrow…so I have to miss my morning classes. I can get notes from Ichigo which should be sufficient enough._ Toushirou set aside the papers and leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes tiredly. He still needed to finish up the troublesome assignments he'd received that day. But he also needed to take a break, just a small one.

**TMTMTMTMTM**

She slowly opened her eyes and blinked once, twice. She glanced over and found Toushirou sleeping in a chair by her side. She sat up slowly and looked at the papers he had set aside on the bedside table. Her eyes took on a dejected glow as she looked over all the notes Toushirou had jotted down.

She looked at Toushirou whose face was guarded even in sleep. The space between his eyebrows was creased, as though he was deeply concentrated on something. Toushirou's grandmother did not doubt that even while he dreamt, another part of his brain was working away, trying to solve the problems of reality.

"My little Toushirou, I have placed such a terrible burden on you. I am sorry." She reached forward a hand and gently patted his head. Almost instantly, the crease between his eyebrows disappeared and his jaw relaxed. The tension was released from his body, save for the tight clench of one fist, the only sign that he refused to relax and forget his problems, even for a moment.

**TMTMTMTMTM**

Toushirou jerked awake and scanned around the room. He glanced at his phone and saw it was four in the morning. He had enough time to wash up, change, and finish his assignments before Dr. Ichimaru was due to check in for the day. He stood and as he stretched, he looked at his grandmother who continued to sleep soundly. Feeling assured, Toushirou headed to the bathroom.

Afterward, he sat down in the chair he had previously occupied and pulled one of the small movable tables toward him to set his homework on. He removed a black pen from his schoolbag and set to work, zipping through math problems and English passages and questions.

At seven, his phone began to vibrate, signaling that he should head to the front desk to await Dr. Ichimaru's arrival. He pushed back his chair and stood quickly. Toushirou pocketed his phone and took one last glance at his grandmother before leaving.

He reached the desk and leaned against the wall, waiting. He had searched through the hospital's directory the previous night to find out what Dr. Ichimaru looked like. It had been quite a surprise when Toushirou learned that the doctor was not much older than himself.

_There he is,_ thought Toushirou, pushing himself off the wall as a man walked through the automatic doors, wearing a pair of khaki pants and a navy blue polo, carrying a bag in one hand.

"Good morning, Dr. Ichimaru," the nurse at the front desk chirped enthusiastically.

"Morning," he replied with a small nod. He made his way toward Toushirou who placed himself right in the middle of the hallway. "Excuse me," said Gin who moved to bypass Toushirou.

Toushirou moved in front of him and stated, "Dr. Ichimaru, my name is Hitsugaya Toushirou. My grandmother is a patient in this hospital an—"

He was cut off as Gin turned the other way and continued toward his office. Toushirou's mouth tightened in anger. He pushed it down though; he should be used to this sort of behavior, but he still hated it nonetheless. He took a deep breath and followed after Gin who was now entering his office. Toushirou didn't bother knocking before stepping in.

"Leave," Gin commanded as he sat down behind his desk and began pulling papers from a large stack at the corner of his desk.

"I would like to request your help with my grandmother's case," Toushirou began formally.

"I respectfully decline," Gin replied without glancing up, beginning to scribble on the paper before him.

"You're the only one that can help her," said Toushirou, his voice tinged with desperation. This was abnormal behavior for him. He was not prone to begging, but this was for his grandmother. For her, he would do anything, even if it meant throwing his pride to the wind.

"I must still decline," said Gin monotonously, continuing to write.

"You don't even know her case! At least look at that before you make your decision!"

"Quiet down. This is a hospital. Now be gone before I call security to escort you out."

Toushirou quieted, but his anger was evident in the clench of his fist, the gritting of his teeth, and his darkened, narrowed eyes. He had to approach this in a more tactical manner. He breathed in and out once before asking, "Why won't you even look at her case?"

Now Gin set down his pen. He sat back and lifted one elbow to rest on the side of his chair. He leaned against his fist and stared at Toushirou, unnerving him and forcing him to glance away briefly. "I did look at your grandmother's case," he began, "and I concluded that it wasn't worth my time."

Toushirou stiffened and against his better judgment, strode forward, slamming his hands against the top of the desk. "What the hell do you mean, it's not worth your time?" Toushirou shouted, not caring who heard.

"Dr. Ichimaru, is everything alright?" A nurse asked worriedly from the door, her gaze flickering from Gin to Toushirou's back.

"Yes," said Gin with a wave of his hand. "I can handle this."

"Alright," replied the nurse hesitantly, stepping back slowly and heading back to the desk.

"I mean exactly what I said, Hitsugaya-san," Gin continued as though they hadn't been interrupted. "I would rather put my work toward helping those I know have a chance of surviving. Your grandmother has little more than a few more weeks left to live and nothing I or any other doctor do will make that any different. Her situation is hopeless."

Toushirou's movement was swift as he reached over the desk and grabbed Gin's collar. "You bastard," Toushirou hissed, his dark blue-green eyes narrowed in hate. "You're a doctor. Your purpose is to save lives, not determine whether or not someone is allowed to live."

"My purpose," Gin's eyes slowly began to open, "is to save those who can be saved." His eyes were now fully opened, revealing a pair of dark red irises.

Toushirou involuntarily released his shirt and stepped back in astonishment.

Gin's eyes shut and he placed a pleasant, doctor smile on his face. "Now that we understand one another Hitsugaya-san, allow me to get back to work. Another doctor will see to your grandmother's case." He picked up his pen again and went back to filling out reports.

This was Toushirou's cue to leave, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. He refused to leave; he couldn't let it end like this. But deep down he knew that he had lost this battle.

Toushirou forced himself to walk out of the room. Yes, he had lost the first battle, but he would not lose the war. His face was set, his eyes alight with a firm resolution. He would just have to find some other way to convince Dr. Ichimaru to take his grandmother's case before her condition got worse. And he would succeed, whatever it took.

* * *

_**I thought all of this was a nightmare.**_

_**Please, I just want to wake up from this dream.**_

* * *

**A/N: The first song lyric was taken Christina Perri's song Distance. The second song lyric is from the Korean band F.T. Island's I hope.**

**Thanks for reading chapter 2. I hope you enjoyed it. Please take the time to review. I'd really appreciate it.**

**Jounah**


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